Run With Me
by everybreatheverymove
Summary: AU: When April is told by a psychic that she's going to die within the next twelve days, she and her best friend Jackson set out to accomplish things she has always wanted to do before she dies. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**I know, I write too many fics and never finish them, but all of that is due to a lack of imagination and inspiration but I'm feeling this one. The only downfall is that I won't continue it properly until I finish _The Loyals._ But I feel it's important to get this one out there already and for you to read, so please enjoy, and tell me what you think if you please! Thanks! :)**

* * *

She's never been the kind of girl, or woman, who parties.

She drinks, of course, the occasional beer or glass of wine with her dinner, but she doesn't exactly make plans to go out on a bender and get hammered.

She's a doctor, has always wanted to be, has never wanted to be a party girl with a bad degree and a string of one night stands.

Hell, she doesn't have any one night stands. She doesn't have any night company.

April Kepner spends most of her Friday nights alone, usually tending to the ER or, if she happens to have the night off, she hangs around Joe's bar for an hour or so with her co-workers and her best friend.

This Friday, it just so happens that her Chief of Staff had given her the night off, since she'd spent at least a good 48 hours on shift, that was.

"Are you coming?"

She folds her scrub top up before placing it in her locker around spinning around to face her friend and colleague of five years. "I don't really feel like being a third wheel to you and Mark tonight."

Lexie Grey, fellow resident and aspiring neurosurgeon, raises a brow, leans against the door frame.

She was taller than April, her legs slightly longer, and her long dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders like waves. Though she was a year younger than the rest of the fifth year residents, she'd managed to keep up with them and skip a year because of her genius, somewhat annoying, eidetic memory. Damn her.

"You won't be a third wheel. Mark invited Jackson. You know, that guy you tend to hang out with when I'm not there?"

April rolls her eyes, flicking her red hair behind her shoulder and folding her arms over her chest. "Oh, him? He's kind of annoying."

He's really not. He's her best friend, has been for a good six years. Only sometimes she wonders why, and how, they even became friends in the first place.

While she opted to dedicate herself to saving people and healing their wounds, he decided that rubbing lotion on his hands and touching people's naked bodies was a much better career choice.

"Shut up." Lexie laughs, shaking her head, "Come on. We'll just have a few drinks, and there's a fair in town as well. We'll meet them there. I know you love those."

"How did you know?" April grins, decided to close her locker and follow the brunette out into the hallway. "They better have cotton candy at this thing."

* * *

"How's it going, Kepner?"

She smiles as the older man wraps an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in for a hug.

Mark Sloan is an amazing, award-winning, much too proud plastic surgeon that just so happens to be dating her younger friend. He doesn't work at the hospital, only drops in for a few of his surgeries, because he'd decided to open up his own private practice, one where her best friend happened to work.

Actually, that was how Lexie and Mark had met. Through April and Jackson and their decision to hang out at Joe's on a random Friday night.

"I'm good," She pulls away with a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "how's business?"

"Expensive." He jokes, smugly grinning to himself and pulling Lexie into his side. "Rich people wanting other rich people to give them bigger boobs, Kepner. That's my business."

April nods, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets and licking her lips. "At least you're not rubbing your hands all over them every day."

"Are you mocking my job again?"

She turns at the sound of Jackson's voice, smiling to herself.

Jackson Avery was probably the best friend she'd ever had. He was the source of her words of wisdom when she needed them, and her sage advisor when she needed counseling. Basically, he was like the gay confidant every girl wanted. Only, he definitely wasn't gay and he was probably far better looking than most sidekicks.

She knows that it's probably not normal for them to be so close, but they're kind of intimate without any intimacy.

Surprisingly, she didn't complain when she was the one needing a massage.

"No."

"Whatever. I got your candy." He smirks and holds out a stick of cotton candy for her, quickly swiping a huge chunk of it off when she grabs it from him. He eats the sweet, licking his fingers when he's done and staring down at her. "Yum."

"You're such a pig." She nudges him, elbow to his ribs and he gasps.

"Nice, Kepner." Mark teases, kissing the top of Lexie's head before he glances around the brightly lit fair. "Okay, what do you girls wanna do?"

"I can't believe you made me come to this thing." Jackson complains, frowning as he trails behind the group.

April spins around to face him, walking backwards as she talks to him, "I didn't make you do anything. You heard I was coming and you agreed."

"You're right, I'm sorry. It must of been all that talk of cotton candy and ferris wheels that got to my head."

"And because I'm your friend?"

"And, of course, because of my love for my dear sweet April Kepner." He jokes, stepping into pace with her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walk behind the couple.

It might come across as strange, like they're together or in love or whatever. But they're not, never have been, definitely won't ever be.

She's never thought of him that way. Sure, at first, she'd noticed his indescribable good looks and handsome features, but she'd been swept away by him. He was her friend, that was all he would ever be, so she didn't see a point in imagining any other scenario.

"I've got it!"

April lifts her head from her candy at Lexie's exclamation, quickly catching sight of the the dark purple gazbeo set up across the lot.

"Come on, Grey, really?" Jackson pulls a face, lips curling downward and eyes squinty. "A psychic?"

The brunette turns, points a finger at him, "Hey, I happen to believe in spirituality, alright? It's not my fault you have no faith."

He rolls his eyes, lets his arm drop from April's shoulder, "Oh, I have faith. In medicine, in healing-"

"You make a living by relieving people's sore muscles, Jackson, I wouldn't exactly call you a great scientist." The redhead butts in.

"You're religious, you don't get a say!"

"Oh, I don't, do I not?" She folds her arms over her chest again, steps closer to him, ignoring the way Lexie stares back and forth between the two of them with a smile.

"Hey, how about you guys go first?" Mark suggests, raising a brow suggestively and tilting his head toward the dimly-lit tent. "I'm sure Lexie wouldn't mind."

Glancing up at her boyfriend of a year, the youngest of the bunch smirks knowingly with a nod, "Yeah."

April shrugs, shoulders dropping and arms unfolding as she moves forward, hand grabbing Jackson's to follow her.

"I am not going in there."

"For me? Please?" She pouts, head turning sideways to look up at him.

Jackson sighs, though he fails to hide the faint smirk toying on his lips. "If she tells me that I'm gonna run into a tall dark stranger then I'm out."

She giggles, leans into him as he pulls aside the curtain to enter the tent.

Yes, she has faith. In science and in a higher power, in Him. But she also likes to imagine that ghosts and predictions and everything a little supernatural could be real somehow.

"Oh, great, she's got a freaking snowglobe as a prop." The darker skinned man groans, eyeing the crystal ball on her table. There's a strange almost vintage tablecloth covering the old wooden bench and she has a bunch of cards laid out on one side of the ball, waiting for them to be turned.

"Can you be nice, please?" April asks quietly before they reach the woman's table, before she overhears Jackson's scepticism and kicks them out.

The green-eyed man nods, licking his lips and sticking a hand out, motioning for her to go forward first.

April sits down in one of the chairs their side, and she smiles, holding out a hand to shake, "Hello."

"Silence, please."

The redhead slouches back, hand retracted and she sends her best friend a death glare when he coughs back a laugh.

"Okay." April remains tight-lipped. She places her hands in her lap, fingers tapping together and she crosses her legs beneath the table.

Jackson sits beside her, leaning back in his seat and arms crossing over his chest as he takes in his surroundings. He bites down on his lower lip as he looks around, spotting a skeleton in the corner of her 'office'. He frowns, turning back to look over at a silent and patient April. He leans closer, voice close to her ear, "I'm not buying it."

"Shh."

April scolds him, elbowing his side again and creases his brows at his chuckle.

"Give me your hand."

April smiles, happily holding out her palm until the older woman swats her hands away, her cluttered rings sharp against her skin.

"Not you, you." She tilts her head toward Jackson, eyeing the man with a nod.

"Nah, I'm good." He shakes his head, crinkles his lips and swallows a breath.

"Give her your hand."

"No, just-" He gets cut off when April reaches for his hand, shoving it forward into the psychic's awaiting palm. "Argh, come on."

"I see a bright future."

He smirks, knowingly rolling his eyes, "Oh, here we go." He teases, clearly not buying her story already. He's a skeptic, always has been, and he's definitely not going to change his ways because some crazy old lady with a scarf and a glass ball tells him to.

"You will find a great love in your life."

"Well, I did have some pretty good love last night." Jackson jokes, receiving another nudge from his friend's bony elbow.

"He has a different girl in his bed every night." April explains thoughtfully, as though the woman has to know.

"Every week." He corrects her, "Not every night."

"Whatever, that's just as bad!"

"Silence." The elder woman taps his hand and Jackson grimaces, clearly tempted to pull his hand away before she starts blabbering nonsense. "I see... She will be your everything. She will be loud, yet soft."

"Sure." Still not buying it, he smiles at the woman like a child to his mother. Maybe if he plays along, she'll give up.

"With bright hair. You will need to be her hero."

"Alright."

"Have you ever loved?"

"Are you hitting on me?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Don't think so." He replies truthfully. At least he's pretty sure he hasn't. He would know, right? It's supposed to be some grand and great feeling like no other, right? Yeah, he's never been in love.

"You will love her. Like no other. You will need her, but she will have some... complications."

"Like a disease, or-"

"Be careful with your heart, Jackson."

"Wait, how did you-"

She drops his hands then, her fingers stop running over his palm, and she shifts her gaze to the redhead.

"You."

"How did you know my name?" Jackson pries, pushing himself forward, closer to the table.

"That is of no importance." She shrugs him off, tenderly tracing the lines down the younger woman's hand, "You."

"Yes?" April smiles, clearly eager to hear her reading.

If Jackson is going to be lucky enough to find love, then she'd like something just as nice to happen to her. Maybe she'll win the lottery? Or maybe the woman knows if she's going to pass her Boards? Maybe she'll even find love herself? What if-

"You are dying."

Jackson holds back a laugh, leans back again and glances at the petite friend beside him, "Oh, look how that turned out."

"I'm sorry, I'm going to what?"

"In twelve days. Short, but- I am terribly sorry." She drops her hand, moves away from the table and stands.

Maybe she was wrong. Wasn't she supposed to use her cards or something?

"You must leave."

"What, no! You just told me I was gonna die!"

"Leave."

"April, come on-"

"No! She just said- Am I dying?"

"You must go now."

"Come on, let's go."

He grabs her hand as he stands, quickly pulling the redhead to her feet and bringing her alongside him as he turns to leave. When she starts to turn back toward the tent, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pushes her out.

"Jackson."

"Hey, it's fine, come on. We'll go home."

They quickly make their way over to Mark and Lexie, who look like they've just done something mildly suspicious in public. April can't help but frown, clearly distraught by the woman's words.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"April's a little... shook up, right now." Jackson explains, running a hand up and down the smaller woman's arm.

Lexie lets go of her boyfriend shirt, instead resting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "What happened in there?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." She tells her.

She's not a dramatic person by nature, but when someone tells you that you're going to die then you kind of get a little stressed out.

"Avery, take her home. She looks like she could use a beer or something."

"I- I'm fine."

"April, let me take you home."

"Okay."

* * *

"What am I supposed to do, Jackson? I just-"

"Will you just relax?" He tends out a beer, nodding his head for her to sit down, "You're going to be fine. If if comes down to it, then I'll help you out, okay? But right now, you're alive, and breathing and obviously delusional."

"I'm tired."

"You're a surgeon, you're supposed to be."

April licks her lips, takes a small sip of her beer before she places the bottle back down on his coffee table.

"And I'm aching."

He smirks, leaving his bottle on the table before he heads off into his bathroom after she speaks. He emerges a few seconds later with a yellow bottle in his hand. "Why, Miss Kepner, I do believe you're supposed to be naked right about now."

"Are you trying to get me naked?"

"Well, you're basically offering yourself to me on a platter." He informs her, kneeling down on his couch and dropping the small sun coloured bottle beside him.

She kneels too, hands on her hips and she unbuttons her jeans before she starts to pull them down her legs.

She manoeuvres on the couch until she lies in just a pair of panties and her bra, flipped over on her stomach.

It's an odd friendship they share.

One where he, a thirty-two year old male who enjoys his flings and rounds of casual sex, is somehow the only person who she, the thirty year old virgin who never engages in any sort of activity, allows to see her partially naked and free to touch.

"I should make a list."

"A list?" He squeezes the yellow bottle between his hands, squirting some of the clear golden liquid onto his hands. "Like a bucket list?"

"Exactly. A short but smart compilation of things that I would like to do before I die."

"Oh, here we go again. April, you're not going to die."

She shifts to lie comfortably on his couch, face pressing into the cushions, ones she'd bought when they'd gone shopping to furnish his new apartment.

"If I die, you have to help me do all of these things."

"When you die, I probably won't be too far behind since we'll be old and saggy and on the brink of death anyways. Hell, we'll probably already have zimmer-frames and false teeth by then."

"Jackson, I'm serious!"

"So am I!"

He moves his hands down her back, spreading his fingers and digging them into her sides. He runs them back up her shoulder-blades as she softly moans, pressing her face further into the pillow.

"You like that, Doctor?"

"Shut up."

They remain in silence for awhile, the only sounds being her breathing and the oil squirting out of the bottle onto his hands.

He doesn't know why she even likes, or claims to need, the oil. Her skin is soft, much like a baby's and he's not sure that she even needs to add any lotion to it. He's kind of memorised the feel of her skin by now, his fingertips tainted by the touch of her flesh.

"You have more money than I do." She speaks suddenly, clearly trying to use his status as an heir to a fortune as an argument.

"And?"

"And I might need to go all out on this thing. You could be my personal bank."

"You plan on sponging off me?"

"No..."

"April."

"You said you'd help me."

"Precisely."

His hands are all over her body as he talks. No, it's not because they're together. And no, they don't have some lame friends-with-benefits-you-do-me-I-do-you situation going on.

He's a masseuse. His hands are always all over people's bodies all the time and he gets paid for it. Only she gets to feel his million-dollar hands for free and she can't complain about that (especially not with a knot the size of Russia in her neck).

"I said I would help you choose stuff, I never said I'd join in and pay for everything."

The redhead rolls her eyes, turning her head to the side and pressing her cheek deeper into the pillow. She peeks up at him with a soft smile, "What if it's my dying wish?"

"Your dying wish is to be a gold digger?"

She kicks her leg then, from behind and up at his chest, but he grabs her calf suddenly and stops her from moving.

"Don't do it."

She sometimes thinks he should have been a cop.

But he hates cops, mostly because of that one she dated about a month ago who tried a little too hard to get into her pants.

Though he knows that he's the only one who's ever been between her legs. Granted, it included oil (not in a dirty way), and his hands (still not in a dirty way), and a tip (definitely not in a dirty way), but he's still proud of that fact.

"I'm not a gold digger. I just want my best friend to help me before I die."

"Well, your best friend finds it crazy that you believed some ridiculous psychic in a tent, but-"

"It was a gazebo!"

"She was insane!"

There's new, fresh oil on his hands, and she knows this because his fingertips run along the low of her back, a little too close to her butt than she would like, and she's warmer than before.

"You say that now, but you're gonna call me one day with some girl problem, and I'm not gonna be able to pick up the phone because I'll be dead. Then how bad will you feel?"

"Not as bad as that psychic is gonna feel when you live, and we sue her ass."

She holds back a laugh, knows that he's smirking behind her. She can feel it from the way his thumbs dig into her sides, his skin burning her flesh delightfully and loosening her tense muscles.

"Jackson-"

"You're not gonna die."

"But, what if-"

"Look, if it means that much to you, then I'll do it. Okay?"

"Thank you."

"Yeah." He breathes out, palms lifting from her greased body and grinning down at her, "Flip."

April moves, resting on her elbows as she leans back on her butt to face him.

"Okay, first off. I want to go camping."

"Camping?" He groans, shaking his head, "Come on, Doc, you gotta think outside of the box."

April rolls her eyes, biting on her bottom lip as she slumps down to lie on the couch, watching as he runs his hands across her stomach.

It's weird when he touches her. Because no one else ever does. Because there's only him. Because it's intimate and she has intimacy issues, but not when he touches her.

"I want to... Witness a miracle." She starts off, smiling up at him.

"Alright, yeah, that's more like it." Jackson grins, hands trailing down her abdomen to the top of her panties, fingers pressing into her skin delicately. "What else?"

"Get arrested."

"So you want to become a criminal while you're also witnessing miracles?"

"I plan on living life to the fullest." She explains, spreading her arms as he leans across her, hands moving down her shoulders. "Be kissed wildly."

"You've never been kissed?"

"Of course I've been kissed, just not like... Like that, you know? Well, of course you know, you're you. But I haven't..."

"No, I know, you haven't..." He grins, all teeth and tongue as he hints at her suggestion.

April sighs, closing her eyes, "No one has ever pinned me to a wall, or held me a certain way."

It's weird, to talk to him about this, to discuss it. But she's never shy around him, never has been, so she doesn't know why she would be now.

"Next. I want... I want to lose my virginity."

Jackson backs away then, a slight frown on his face, "What?"

"What?" She feigns innocence, peeking up at him through long lashes. Then again, there isn't really anything innocent about their current situation.

"April."

"Jackson."

"You promised. I don't think you should be breaking that promise just because some crazy woman says you're gonna kick the bucket."

"It's not that- It's- Okay, it's not just that. I want to feel it, alright? I mean, I think I deserve it at this point."

"So, what, you're just gonna find some guy and screw him?"

"I will deal with that bridge when I reach it." She confirms, nodding her twice with a smile up at him, "So, what else?"

"How about visiting the Space Needle, you've been wanting to do that for years and you still haven't gotten around to it?"

"Yes! Okay, that was a good one."

"You're not gonna tell me that you wanna get married within the next twelve days, right? I mean, you can, I can get to Lake Tahoe in thirteen hours, but-"

"No! No, Jackson. Thank you very much, but I am fine single. I don't wanna get married. I mean, because then I'd be leaving a widower and a huge mess to clean up after."

"You're not dying."

April points a finger up at him, "You don't know that!"

"Maybe not, but you do! You're a freaking doctor, April, I like to think you'd know if you were dying."

"Maybe not. I could get hit by a bus, or get mugged by a serial killer-"

"Oh, God." Jackson shakes his head with a heavy breath, applying more oil to his hands before he runs them down her legs, stopping at her knees.

Another silence overtakes them as she continues to lay in a blissful peace, feeling delicate hands skim over her flesh.

"I want to have my heart broken."

His green eyes light up at that one, clearly amused with her request, "You have high demands, Doctor."

"Well, I have a right, given I'm gonna be dead in twelve days and all."

"You're not going to die."

"We'll see."


	2. Chapter 2

**I know I was going to finish _The Loyals_ first but I have no idea when I'll ever end that now and this one couldn't wait any longer. I hope it's worth the wait (and I plan on updating it a little faster next time!) Let me know what you think, and enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Do you have a pen?"

Jackson raises a brow, slides her freshly made cup of chai tea across the table. "What makes you think I'd have a pen on me?"

The redhead woman shrugs, browses through her purse until she finds a blue Bic pen, "Nevermind, I got one."

She lifts up his cup of coffee, steals the napkin out from beneath it before handing the drink back over, "Thanks."

He watches her for a second, hands folding open the small napkin and clicking repeatedly on the tip of her pen.

"Ah, it's time." Jackson points out, catching on to what she was doing.

"For my list?" She glances up at him after scrawling down a quick title to her make-shift paper, "Yep." She smiles softly, pushes a strand of hair behind her ear when it falls in her face.

"Need any help with that?" He grins.

She sends him an obvious frown, one that says 'duh, why else do you think you're here?'.

"I invited you for a reason."

"And here I was thinking you just wanted to catch up with your best friend." He explains with a roll of his eyes, letting his gaze shift onto a blonde at the Starbucks counter.

"We caught up last night. Now, I have a short life to plan out, thank you very much, and it would be great if you could lend a hand."

"For you," he leans across the table, squints his green eyes at her daringly with a smug grin, "I would lend both hands."

April giggles, a small blush rising to her cheeks.

They're best friends, flirty ones at that, and she's not entirely immune to his very obvious charms.

"That's nice."

He moves back in his seat, crosses his right leg over his left knee the way men do, and he clasps his large hands around his coffee cup.

"Alright. First of all, I still want to go camping." She confirms, scribbling the word 'camping' down on the napkin.

Jackson shakes his head disbelievingly, "I can't believe you're from Ohio and you've never been camping. What kind of country girl are you?" He teases, suddenly jumping from his seat when she kicks him beneath the round table. He glares at her, "Fine. We'll go camping."

April smiles proudly, glad to win this small bickering match.

It's not uncommon for strangers and people and friends to call them out on their 'elderly couple bickering'. They're used to it.

It fits them.

"And I wanna do that first, to get it out of the way." She draws a column full of little boxes down the edge of sheet, "Okay. Be kissed wildly."

"We can just get that out of the way now, you know?" He jokes, batting his lashes and staring at her intently.

She pulls a face, grimaces when he reaches for her hand, "Not with you. That would be... No." She breathes out heavily, shaking her head, eyes closed. "I will meet someone and kiss them, and- Oh, yeah, fall in love."

"And get your heart broken." He reminds her of her wish from the night before, waving a finger about and lifting his cup to his lips with other hand. "I'm assuming by the same guy."

"Yes."

She writes both things down, toys with the lid of her pen for a second.

"Have you-" She sighs, feigns idiocy, "No, forget it." She shakes her head, moving a hand to rub her shoulder beneath the collar of her shirt comfortably. She does it when she's anxious, nervous, he's noticed over time.

"What were you gonna ask me?" Jackson's voice lowers, his eyes darken and he places his cup down on the faint wooden table after taking a long sip.

The surgeon looks back over at him, hazel-eyed gaze focusing in on his sea-foam one. "Have you ever been in love?" April asks him, sweet and low, quietly as though she doesn't want anybody else to hear her question.

He pauses for a moment, watching as she shifts her focus to the napkin. He smiles softly, notices the way she crosses her legs, shifts her shoulders, brushes her hair behind her ears as she waits for his answer. "Yeah."

He whispers out of his control, the word slipping past his lips without his knowledge. He clears his throat then, leans against the back of the seat uncomfortably, deep eyes avoiding her altered bright ones.

She perks up at his response, lips curled at the side with a faint smile. "Yeah?"

Jackson blinks, one to three times, scratches his jaw. He does it when he's anxious, nervous, she's noticed over time.

"Yeah. I have." He forces a grin, finally peeks a look at her with a small smile, "Once."

"Was it great?" She asks, eyes wide like a child in a candy shop. She's entranced, wondering, curious.

He groans so low that she doesn't hear, runs a hand over his face with an exasperated breath, "She didn't love me back." He admits casually, voice still an octave lower than its usual.

"Oh."

"Yeah." He nods once, twice, licks his lips, "What else do you wanna do?"

She brightens back up then, switches back into her dying-young-woman-with-only-eleven-days-left-to-live mode, "Witness a miracle!"

He chuckles at her enthusiasm, "Yeah, you said that one last night. Trust you and your faith to want to see the impossible."

"There's a difference between the impossible and the improbable, Jackson. Anything could happen." She points out to him, pokes at his coffee cup and swirls her own about.

"If you say so."

"I do." She writes it beneath her drawing of a broken heart and purses her lips, "Space Needle, right?"

"Yeah." He nods, "How about travelling to a different state? You said you always wanted to go to California?" Jackson suggests.

"I do, yes!" The redhead jolts the state down, taps her pen, "San Francisco!"

"What's so special about San Francisco?"

"Nothing, I just- I've always wanted to go." She informs him, dropping her gaze to his hands, stopping the movements of her pen against the table, "You seem to be much more helpful today. Are you finally coming around to the idea that I may not be here in a few days?"

He rolls his eyes with a gentle chuckle, stands up from his perch. "I'm humouring you."

"Right. Sure." She fakes agreement, frowns when he tosses his coffee cup away, "Where are you going now? I'm not finished."

The darker skinned man raises his brows, stuffs both hands into his jeans' pockets. "I'm going to go organise this camping trip. You know, because you're so sick and all. Wouldn't want the dying girl to not having one of her dying wishes now, would we?" He jokes wholeheartedly.

"Oh, of course." She stands also, keeps her cup tight in her hand as she shoves the napkin into her purse and zips back it up for safe keeping.

"Come on then, Twelve Days."

"New nickname?"

"D'you not like it?" He smirks down at her, wraps an arm around her shoulders as they leave the local coffee shop, "I thought I was being cute."

She swats his chest at that, "Shut up."

It fits them.

* * *

"Mark and I can come along if you want." Lexie says, folding her legs beneath her on the bed, raising a brow suggestively.

April shakes her head, "Nah, I'll be fine. But thanks." She tosses a final t-shirt into her duffel bag before zipping it up, "I don't wanna drag you guys into this."

"Look, I know Jackson doesn't believe in all of this. He's doing it for you, you know, to give you what you want and to shut you up, but me- I believe it."

"You think that I'm gonna die, too?" April frowns, unsure whether to be reassured or worried by her friend's confession.

"Yes. I believe that crazy bitch." The brunette tilts her head to the side with a pout, "Mainly because she told me Mark would propose, and he did!"

"What?"

The younger surgeon's hand is thrust in her face then, an oversize band glistening on her ring finger.

"Oh my gosh!"

"I know!"

"Lexie!" The redhead gasps, stands up from her kneeling position to pull the taller woman into a hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

"So am I!" Lexie gushes, staring at her ring from over April's shoulder as she pushes the woman into a tighter squeeze. "I was afraid you'd react differently, to be honest."

They pull away then, her hands wrapped around April's forearms gently, "Why would you think that?"

"Because, you know..." She moves a hand across her throat, closes her eyes for a second, "That old lady is obviously right, and I'm worried about you, and I thought that you wouldn't be happy about this because you believe her, and I believe her, and if she's right about you dying soon then you won't get to be my maid of honour!" She spurts out in a quick breath, shoulders heavy when she finishes talking.

April sighs, eyes light and arms slack, "Of course I'm happy for you." She smiles, "I hope she's wrong, but I don't think she is." She shakes her head, "And Jackson is just trying to prove a point, that he's right. The way he always does."

Lexie grins, folds her long arms over chest, "Yeah, about that... Are you guys sharing a tent or-"

"Lex!"

The brunette fakes innocence, holds both hands up defensively, "What? Hey, it was just a question."

"One you should already know the answer to." April elaborates, lifting her bag off of the ground and onto her shoulder.

"You're sharing a tent but not a sleeping bag? How about the pillow? Or are you taking a duvet instead of sleeping bags? I, for one, find that much smarter. Less compact, more room." She shrugs, watches as April ignores her with a laugh.

"I need to go meet him so how about you head home to your fiancé?" The slightly older woman suggests, pushing a hand to the brunette's back to usher her out of her bedroom.

They head down the hallway before Lexie finally gives in and stands up straight by herself.

"Fine! Gee, no need to shove me out!"

"Goodbye, Lex."

The younger one picks up her purse from the table by the front door tosses her jacket over her arm. "Don't do anything I would do." She winks, click her tongue before turning open the door handle to leave the apartment.

"I won't!"

* * *

"I can't believe you've never done this."

Jackson sighs in disbelief, pops open a beer and watches as she bends over the side of the tent, trying to stick the pitch into the ground.

"Need some help over there?"

She lifts her head, flips her hair over her shoulder with a heavy breath, "Nope." She grunts, pushes down on the metal. "Ah!"

"Seriously, April, just-" He nears her, approaches her from behind and moves a hand to her waist. "Lean this way."

"Can you let me do it, please?"

"I am letting you do it, I'm just offering some sage advice." His hand is still on her waist, sliding lower to her hip when she leans forward.

April gives it a final shove, following his guidance, his tilt, to successfully push the fourth and final pitch into the thick dirt.

"What time is it?" She stands up straight, eyes him with confusion when his hand still lingers against her side.

He quickly moves away from her, checking his watch to answer her question. "Uh, it's ten pm." He replies, gulping down a long swig of his beer. "You want one?"

She shakes her head, opens up the entrance flaps of their tent for the night, "Look at this, huh?" She grins like a gleeful child. "Can't believe I built this."

"I technically built it, you just stuck a few pieces of crap into some dirt." He mutters under his breath, avoids her death stare. "Yeah, I mean, good job. Hey, how did you get off work?"

She takes a deep breath, stretches her arms out, "I quit. Told Hunt I was dying and that I didn't want to spend my last days around other dying people."

"April, you're not-"

"I know, I know." The redhead cuts him off, waving her hands about as to prove his point, "I'm not dying. I'm gonna be fine. Blah, blah, blah. Would it kill you to let me believe this?"

"No. But it might kill you." Jackson jokes.

She laughs, pulls her cardigan from her shoulders and throws it down onto her duffel bag. "Even if I'm wrong, and she's wrong, and you are as right as rain, I still want to believe this. It's free-ing. I can, for a few days, do whatever I want. I can do stuff I wouldn't normally do. I can be reckless, and carefree. Me! You know me, Jackson, I am not usually carefree." She reasons with him.

He nods, sits down on a large log cemented into the dirt. "Okay."

"Okay?" She grins, bites her bottom lip, "Yes. Okay!"

"You wanna shout it?"

"I do, yeah." April admits with a bashful smile.

"Do it." He shrugs, "Nobody can hear you other than me. Shout, April Kepner. Shout!"

"Okay!" She screams, hands by her sides and head tilting back and forth, side to side.

She doesn't notice the way Jackson watches her, proud look oh his face, in awe and admiration of her attitude and everything.

"I am going to die!" She screeches, spinning around in small circles, arms spread and eyes shut tight.

"Jesus, don't shout that." He scolds her, coming over to grab her arms to stop her from moving. "People will think I'm gonna kill you."

April comes to a standstill, batting her feminine eyelashes and licking her lips while she gaze into his eyes, "I thought you said nobody could hear me?"

"Shut up." He smirks, hands her the beer. "Drink up."

* * *

She's not sure who was supposed to pack what, to be honest.

He'd bought, brought, almost entirely pitched the tent. She'd fetched snacks.

"I can't believe we only have one sleeping bag." April mumbles to herself, wraps her arms tightly around her chest and kneels down on the cold ground beside hi.

He's already lay in the dark green cushioned slip, head to a pillow with his eyes closed.

"Twelve Days, I've seen you naked before. Would you just get in here?"

She glares at him, nudges his side as she lies down beside him, tugs on her side of the make-do cover. "Not naked, naked. Beside, this is different."

"Hey, you were the one who wanted to go camping, okay?" Jackson reminds her, eyes remaining shut as he turns over onto his side to face her, "Do you want me to sleep outside?"

"No. Of course not."

"Good, me neither." He sighs when she tosses and turns, his eyes flying open when she kicks him repeatedly in the shin, "Ow!"

"Sorry!"

"Yeah, you will be."

She giggles at that, facing away from the masseuse with her hands slipped beneath her pillow.

"That was so threatening."

"That psychic never told you how you die, right? Hey, maybe it's me that kills you because you wouldn't let me sleep."

"You can go sleep, I'm just not-"

"I can't sleep with you moving around like that!"

"Why not?"

"Because you're-" He stills, scratches his brow thoughtfully, "Because you keep... bumping me."

"And?" She frowns to herself to end the conversation, eyes drifting shut as she leans back, absentmindedly pressing her behind into his front. "Oh!"

Jackson gulps, licks his dry lips and avoiding moving, "Yep." He mumbles, uncomfortable with the situation and the way she handles it.

"That's not on my bucket list, just so you know."

"Fully aware of that, April."

"Okay." She nods to herself, to him, face contorting into a frown when nobody moves, when she continues to feel his erection against her ass, "Shall I just face you instead?"

"Yeah. Do that."

She does as he agrees, flipping onto her left side and facing his tired face.

His eyes are heavy, darker than usual, a hand by his side and the other beneath the pillow, much in the same way she does it. "Hey."

"Hi." He smirks before he yawns, too lazy to cover his mouth and she taps at his chest in disgust.

"Goodnight, Jackson."

"Night, Twelve Days."


	3. Chapter 3

**I know, this is a very fast update, especially on my terms! You should be happy, it means I was inspired, and usually when I'm inspired my writing is better than when... it isn't inspired? Either way, I loved all of your reviews last chapter, and your response to this story in general has been wonderful and great to hear, and I'm so glad that many of you seem to be enjoying it and dying to know what happens next. So, I give you, Lexie's engagement party and two more items getting crossed off the bucket list. It's ever-growing, by the way. Enjoy, and let me know what you think! :)**

* * *

"And just how is your Death Row Bucket List coming along?" Lexie slips into a dressing room, pulls the curtain shut as she asks the question.

April rolls her eyes, continues to scan through various articles of clothing, "Very funny." She chews the insides of her cheek for a moment, contemplates whether to bring up last night's event or not.

"Have you let Jackson sex you up yet?"

"Lexie!" April gasps, turns to face the covered cubicle.

It slides open just then, revealing the young brunette wearing a gorgeous deep red dress. The straps are thin, much like those of 90s frocks. It ends just above her knees, pushes her breasts up into better view. It suits her perfectly.

"Oh, come on. You know what I'm talking about." Lexie leaves the cubicle, walks past April to face the mirror at the end of the cramped corridor, pushing a rack of unwanted clothing items aside. "I'm predicting it."

"Are you a psychic now, too?"

"No." She shrugs, small frown knitting her brows as she fidgets with a loose strap. "I'm just not blind." Lexie glances behind her to grin at the redheaded surgeon, winks once.

April sighs, runs a hand through her hair as she sits down on one of the available chairs while the other woman continues to alter her dress, pull it up her thigh as though it'll change the style, "You may not be blind, but you're obviously delusional. That's not- We're... No." She shudders at the thought.

Jackson is like her brother. The older, protective, won't-let-any-harm-befall-you kind. He looks after her, confides in her and lets her do the same in him. He understands her, and she him. They could never possibly work that way.

She laughs to herself quietly, crosses her legs and drops her hands to her lap, messes with the edge of her pink and peach floral skirt. "No."

"Sounds to me like you're doubting yourself."

"I'm doubting your intelligence." She argues at the suggestion, "Also wondering how you became a doctor."

"Whatever."

Lexie pulls a face in the mirror, finally stands back on her heels and slouches her shoulders.

"This dress isn't doing anything for me." She wraps long fingers around her waist, ponders her thoughts for a second. "Try it on."

"What? Me?" Her hazel eyes widen, in shock as the brunette pulls her up from her seat, "That?" April shakes her head, clearly against the idea of trying on such a scanty dress. "I can't."

Lexie shoves her into the dressing cubicle before pulling the curtain closed and slipping the dress over her head quickly, forcing it into April's bare hands.

"Yes, you can!" She smiles, removes another short dress from a bunch of hangers waiting for her. "You need a nice dress to wear to me engagement party tonight, and I don't want you there looking like some frump."

The redhead frowns, bites her lip, partially insulted by the other woman's comment.

"That was harsh." She mutters, moving her hands to her waist to pull the white blouse out of her patterned skirt.

She tugs it off, folds it neatly in half and places it down on the small shelf before sliding her skirt down her legs.

Standing beside such a tall, long-legged beauty like Lexie does nothing for her confidence. The girl is gorgeous, a guy's dream.

She's experienced, talented, smart as hell. Lexie probably never wore glasses until she was twenty-one, and braces all through high school. Lexie was probably never a cautionary tale, never called Ducky as a teen.

"Besides, don't you think you need a sexy dress before you die?"

"I'm a little worried by how unfazed you are by this whole thing, by the way." April tells her honestly, "Aren't we friends?"

"Yes. But... Look, I checked your blood. You're fine. I ran tests. You're all clear. Clearly you're gonna kick the bucket in some sort of accident or... fall or... I don't know." She shrugs, pulls on the bottom of the dress as it slips over April's frame delicately. "It's obviously going to be a surprise, so technically I shouldn't even have a heads up. You see what I mean?"

She squints brown eyes, moves her hands back to her naked hips, new dress scrunched up in her hand as she takes in the sight before her.

"Jesus, April!"

"What?"

"You have breasts!"

The redhead looks down at her cleavage, a slight blush covering her cheeks out of embarrassment, "Thanks... I guess?"

Lexie smacks her arms, hurriedly pulls the cream dress in her hold down her body, stars at the both of their reflections. "Mark is gonna freak when he sees me in this." She smirks, licks her lips, brushes a hand over her long brown hair slowly.

The dress hands a little lower than the other, just past her knees but it's longer at the back than the front. The cream colour is beautiful against her softly tanned skin, the straps halterjng around her neck with a lace pattern just below the low-cut chest.

"Jackson is gonna freak, too."

"Lexie."

"Sorry, but if you're gonna drop dead in ten days then you might as well jump him while you still can. And this-" She pokes a finger at April's stomach, grazes the red material, "this will kill him."

April takes a deep breath, hands by her sides as she closes her eyes for a moment, "I am not going to jump my best friend just because you think I need to get laid."

"You said yourself that you wanted to pop that cherry before it was too late!" Lexie points out, waving a hand around in front of the (ex-?)trauma surgeon.

"Can you... not phrase it like that, please? It's gross."

"How do you want me to say it then? Lose your flower? Take the plunge? Let the sausage meet the egg?"

"Oh my Jesus." She hides a laugh, turns to face the wall, begins to ride the dress back up her body.

She liked the way she looked in it, for sure. It highlighted her boobs, made her eyes pop, matched her ginger hair perfectly.

"If I do... lose it. It won't be with Jackson." April begins, brows raised as though to out across her point, "Believe me."

"Yeah." The brunette smirks when she's no longer facing her, "Keep telling yourself that." She mutters beneath her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." She grins innocently, starts to pull her jeans' back up her legs. "Hey, let's go look at lingerie!"

"Why do we need to look at underwear?"

"Uh, it's not just underwear. It's lingerie, April! Jesus, you're so innocent." She rolls her eyes, "If you're spreading them legs one day soon, you might want some beautiful panties to cover that probably beautiful little vag-"

"Okay! Alright, I get it!" April exclaims, holds up a hand to stop her from finishing her sentence, "Nobody has ever called me beautiful, so I doubt I'll need beautiful underwear."

"Lingerie! And I'm sure it'll happen soon. Don't worry about that. Now, come on, I need to buy something for Mark!"

"Don't you have work?"

"I'm engaged, April. I called in sick." She states matter-of-factly.

"I'll just... pretend that made sense."

* * *

"Dude, have you seen Kepner tonight?"

Jackson turns at the sound of Alex Karev's voice, sending the man a death glare at the question. "Yeah. I have." He swallows a breath, keeps his gaze anywhere but on the woman in question, though it grows increasingly difficult when Alex keeps pointing out her assets.

"Her ass, though." He fawns, shaking his head in disbelief. "I missed my chance with her, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." The masseuse blinks rapidly, licks his dry lips for a little moisture, "Hey, remember when I beat you up because of that?"

"Of course."

"Good. Let's not make it happen again." He threatens, stalks off triumphantly towards the future groom. "Mark!"

"Hey!" The older man beams, taps a hand to his shoulder proudly, "How's my best man doing?"

"Your best man is wondering when this party is going to be over." He tries, keeping a discomforting frown off of his face.

He's not a fan of events, parties like this. A celebration of love, of impending marriage is on the bottom of his priority list right now.

It reminds him of love lost, untouched, of what he can't have but will always regret never attempting to reach. It reminds him of her, the woman he wants, needs, can't hold. It reminds him of her, the one who will supposedly scold him, break his heart. The one who will.

Mark sighs like a father, stares him down carefully, "Can you just enjoy this for five seconds. Please?"

"Five seconds." Jackson agrees, letting the groom-to-be waltz off to find his lady.

He watches as Mark pulls Lexie aside, stepping onto whatever he wants to call that little stage thing he rented for the night. Mark Sloan goes all out. Mark Sloan makes lovely speeches.

Metal taps against crystal glass, voices die down.

"In case you're out of the loop, which I doubt seen as this hospital is the windmill of gossip, I would like to announce that this lovely lady and I," He starts, wraps an arm around Lexie's build softly, brings him into his side, "are getting hitched. You're all invited, of course. I'd like to invite you to sign up for our newsletter, also, so you can keep up to date with all of the ongoings of this wedding." He grins, not noticing Lexie's eye roll beside him, holds up his glass.

"So, I would like to raise this glass to my wonderful, crazy hot, insanely book smart fiancée, Lexie Grey-soon-to-be-Sloan!"

There's a round of applause after Mark's speech, metal spoons tapping against glass, hands clapping against hands, a few cat calls here and there when he pulls her in for a kiss, one hand cupping the side of her face while the other lingers on her backside.

She whispers something against his lips, unable to form actual words as he keeps her closes, pressed against him.

"Mark."

"Uh huh?" He mumbles, forehead pressing to hers as they pull away for a minute of air.

Lexie rests her hands against his chest, "People are staring!"

"People were invited to our engagement party, babe. People are allowed to stare." He jokes, earning a swat to his arm in reply. "Fine."

She backs away from him then, steps out of his embrace with a lingering touch to his arm, until she reaches April, stood alone at the opposite end of the dining hall.

"Hi!" She tugs on the redhead's hand, leads her off into the hallway. "You look amazing!"

"I think you're the amazing one. Wow, Lex!"

The brunette is wearing the dress she bought earlier, along with basic yet elegant makeup and a giant ring to highlight her future nuptials. She has a simple silver chain around her neck, marked with a letter M.

Not cheesy at all.

"Listen, I need to make a few more rounds with my Mark. But later, what do you say, you and me and a couple of fancy chairs outside with margaritas?" Her eyes brighten, watching her friend excitedly.

April smiles happily, nods her heads with a positive glow, "Of course. Now, go! Enjoy your party!"

Lexie whisks off then, clearly content with her plan as she pulls her fiancé into a sickly sweet kiss.

"Get a room!"

The shout comes from none other than Cristina Yang, cardio goddess extraordinaire, head of the department.

The black haired woman leans an elbow against the bar, watches her best friend's sister from afar with the sibling, "You need to tell Little Grey to tone down on the champagne!"

She waves her own glass about, nods her head over to the brunette gulping the liquid down quickly.

Meredith Grey pulls a disbelieving face, knocks her shoulder as she turns to face the bar, "She's happy." She shrugs, orders them another round of shots. "And I don't exactly see you laying low on the alcohol."

Cristina smirks, raises her glass while ignoring her comment, watching as a redhead approaches them. "Hey, Kepner!"

"Hi."

She stands almost timidly beside them, hands tapping against the counter, shoulders raised uncomfortably.

"Who did you get all dressed up for?"

"Leave her alone."

"Was it for Avery? Little Grey says you want to get laid."

"Lexie just said you were... dying? I don't know. What's that about?"

"I am." April informs them as if it's a concrete fact. She clears her throat and pushes a curled strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm supposed to be."

"Is that why you quit yesterday? Owen said you handed in your resignation."

"Yes."

"And got all dressed up for Jackson?" Meredith grins, swirls her small shit around before swigging it down and letting the taste burn her tongue.

"I didn't do it for him! Why does everybody keep thinking that?" She frowns in utter confusion.

Her colleagues have always had some sort of preconceived notion that she and her best friend would end up together. She always gets asked when they're hooking up, when he's staying over, if they've done the deed yet.

They haven't, they won't. It's really not so hard to understand, she whines internally to herself.

"Because he's staring at you like he wants to eat you alive and you're wearing a very un-April-like dress." Yang points out, tilts her head sideways when Jackson nears them at the bar.

He stops by April's side, hand on the bar top, past her waist, against her side. She jumps, shivers softly, keeps her eyes focused on the glass of wine in front of her when she feels Cristina's gaze burning holes through her skull.

"Avery, how's the massage parlour going?"

"It's not a massage parlour. I work with Mark at his practise." Jackson reminds her.

She shrugs, nudges the petite redhead's side gently, "Bag any cougars yet?"

"Really?" His green eyes squint, unable to stop his attention from drifting down onto the woman stood beside him.

April fidgets, shifts her shoulders with a bite of the lip.

"Are you okay?"

"Yep. I'm fine."

Jackson keeps his frown, sends Meredith a questioning look when April reminds silent.

The dirty blonde haired surgeon smiles, grasps her best friend's forearm. "Let's go find Alex!"

Yang grins at that, eager to get her hands on the peds fellow as she follows Meredith away from the bar.

They leave the two friends standing there in silence for a good few seconds before April finally takes a long sip of her drink and dares to look up at him.

Her hair is curled, long at her side, tumbling over her shoulders gently. Her dress hangs perfectly, amazing curves in all the right places and pale skin contrasting wonderfully with the dark red colour of the material.

There's an awkward tension between them, though if they had to, were asked to, they'd probably blame it on last night's incident.

Lexie has been putting thoughts in her head all day long, messing with the way she sees him, the way she views their relationship, while nothing has changed on his side, except she's apparently running low on time and he's just as much of a coward as he's always been.

"You look beautiful."

It slips out unintentionally, though he doesn't regret it, doesn't take it back. How could he? She does in fact look beautiful, she always does.

"Thank you." She nervously bites her lower lip, fondles the glass between her hands cautiously. With a dry throat, she turns her face to look up at him, hazel eyes meeting his sea-foam ones wildly.

"I need to-"

She cuts him off, moves from her perch against the bar and smiles at him politely. "I need to go see-" She stops herself short, pauses for the smallest fraction of a second. He notices. She doesn't seem to. "I'll be right back."

"Okay?"

She heads off past him then, lets her hand regretfully graze his arm as she walks at his side, avoids his stare when he watches her leave him, watches her prepare her escape.

He's confused by what's happening, what's changed.

He hadn't done anything on his end to cause this, cause tension, friction. Granted, sure, they had a short-lived problem the night before, but in the morning it was already forgotten and they were back to laughing, sharing, amicably, closely.

She's acting weirder now, as though he'd done something, as though she'd realised something.

Maybe she revisited the psychic. Maybe she came to her senses, discovered that she wasn't actually going to die and give him false despair.

Maybe she was fine, and it was just him who was thinking like this.

Before he can think another word, he finds his legs moving him around, following her down the hallway.

He's behind her as they walk, four feet away from her and only two steps in her mind.

She can hear him, sense him, feel him. She knows him. He's her Jackson, her person.

But she's not sure what's changing, changed.

"I just need a minute, Jackson." She calls out to him, rounds an empty corner in the hopes that he'll give up on her and turn back around.

She's going to explode someday soon, and she wants the damage to be as minor ad it can possibly be. She needs, wants, to keep a certain distance, but Lexie has been messing with her, planting dirty thoughts, giving her bad ideas.

Distance is hard to keep when she keeps picturing him naked.

"I know." Jackson doesn't give up, continues to follow her around the bend, lets the palm of his hand linger against the wall's surface as they come to a halt.

She stops, leans against the wall and closes her eyes. Her head tilts up towards the ceiling, breath heavy, chest panting uneven breaths when he nears her.

"Jackson."

"I know." He's not sure what he's even talking about, but they have a deep friendship, a profound connection so on some level, he must understand her without actually knowing it.

He steps in line next to her, runs his right hand down the wall until he meets her left, clasps her skin, thread his ling fingers through her own.

April smiles faintly past her blind expression, allows her chest to calm.

"You called me beautiful."

He nods once, twice, blinks a few times through darkening eyes. "Yeah." Jackson turns to face her, head facing her directly while he remains with his back to the blue wall.

She shifts closer slowly, goes to lean her head against his shoulder until she feels him alter, budge, move until his front is to her side and his lips are presses against the corner of her lips.

April stills, allows her lips to drift open, dares to let her gaze meet his intensity.

Jackson keeps his eyes locked onto her, moves his hands by the sides of her head as he turns, stands before her, his lips tracing from the corner of her mouth to her own full lips.

It's odd, but not the bad kind. Strange, but the kind where she shivers out of pleasure, where he groans in frustration when she kisses him back.

She stands blankly against the wall, keeps her hands to herself, lets him do most of the work. He's the one who kissed her, after all.

He parts her lips with his tongue, waits until she accepts, grants him entrance to run his hands up her side to cup her face, fingertips wrapping around her jaw, thumbs sweeping across her flesh tenderly.

She moans softly, presses her body into his involuntarily when he pushes into her with need, want, emotion.

April swallows his sigh, leans her head back further into the wall as though it'll dent for her, let her give him everything and ask for nothing in return.

She refuses to touch him. Because then it would be too real, too weird. She would be kissing Jackson, him, her person. She would be wrecking a perfect friendship, a wonderful partnership, a great understanding of each other's psyche.

Jackson pulls away after a moment, after she's unknowingly bit his lip, attacked his passion with as much agitation. She is her, the one who will ruin him, break his heart.

His hands travel down her face, melt into her almost revealed skin as he reaches her hips, pads of his fingertips pressing into her covered body.

"Be kissed wildly?" He whispers the question softly, teeth grazing his bottom lip with a gleeful smile, unable to remove his hands from her frame, unable to let her go, keeping his gaze locked solely on her hazel eyes.

She's fragile, now so more than ever. She is her, his. She is April. She is his entire list.

He wants her to want him back.

And that's the end of his story.

"Check."


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm updating this more frequently it seems, and hopefully it continues to stay that way because the show is putting them through the ringer right now and we all need some more light-hearted romantic-comedy stuff. Anyway, enjoy and review please! :)**

* * *

Visions of last night won't leave her memory no matter how hard she tries.

It's there, they're there, and she can't stop picturing it.

His hands are on her, her lips are on him. She can't get enough, doesn't want him to either.

"April!"

The loud pounding of fists against her bedroom door wakes her from her daze, turning her head against her pillow, wrapping her fingers around the corner.

She grumbles, closes one eye when the door swings open to reveal a disapproving Lexie.

"What the heck happened to you last night?"

The brunette walks into her room, freshly brewed cups of coffee in each hand. She sits down on the bottom of the bed, hands April the pink mug.

"I-"

"Yes?" She blinks, waits for an explanation as to why the redhead dismissed their plans.

April sighs, blows through the steam of her early morning coffee, "Nothing."

Lexie rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her drink apprehensively, staring down at the older woman. She squints an eye, pulls her lips into a snarl, "Bullshit."

"I kissed Jackson."

"Oh." She smiles, reaching over to the bedside table to place her mug down. She moves back then, stands up, swings a hand out until she smacks April's arm. "Hello!"

"Ow!"

"You kissed?!" Her brown eyes are wide, clearly eager to hear the details of her best friend's short-lived affair.

April sits up, careful to not spill a drop of her coffee. She nods slowly, brows knitted in slight confusion. "But then it ended, and-" She pauses, licks her lips. "He walked away."

She remembers the moment like it was only twelve hours ago. Which, fair enough, it was. But that's not the point.

She'd said "check", he'd smiled, in that charming way he usually does when he's proud of himself.

"He walked away?!" Lexie screeches, hands on her hips with a shocked look on her face, "No."

"Uh, I think he did."

"Well... Why?"

"You're asking me like it already wasn't a bruise to my ego? Really, Lex? If I knew that, I wouldn't be lay here like a vegetable."

The brunette nods slowly, sinking back down to her friend's level. She sits down beside her on the bed, rests a hand to her arm comfortably. "Did you kiss him, or did he kiss you?"

"Is there a difference?"

She's not the most experienced person. A kiss is a kiss, no matter who initiates what or who dominates the other.

"Hell yes, there's a difference!" Lexie tilts her head, "Has he called you?"

"No."

"Have you called him?"

"No."

"Do you want to?"

April places her cup down beside Lexie's purple one, drops her hands into her lap, "What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey, remember me? I'm your best friend that you made out with last night and ran away from'?" She shakes her head, runs a hand through her curls, "No. I am not... doing that."

"Taking a chance?"

"Embarrassing myself."

"Okay."

"Okay? That's it?" She stares up at her cautiously, "You're not gonna fight with me on this? Shove the phone into my hand and force me to deal with my problems."

The brunette grins, pulls on April's hands to drag her to stand, "No. I believe you get to make your own choices in this world, and you're choosing to be a coward." She tells her honestly.

"I'm the coward? He's the one who left without saying a word!"

"You're both cowards, April! Do you know how long people have held bets on you two? Years. I was winning. Well, technically, I've already won now, except Jacks- Look, you and Jackson, it's a little obvious how this is going to end."

April follows her up, shuffles her feet into some fuzzy slippers on her bedroom floor, "How does it end?"

Lexie smirks, bites her bottom lip, "You get to find that out all by yourself."

* * *

"You know I have clients, right? I can't just keep skipping work to help you with your wedding stuff?"

Mark smiles a handsome grin, taps the younger man's shoulder, "I'm your boss, Avery. You do whatever I ask you to." He tells him, shoves a hand to his back and pushes him towards the tailor's station.

They're in for their fittings for the wedding,

"Remind me again why you're getting married one week from now?"

The grey-haired man rolls his eyes, watches with folded arms as the tailor alters Jackson's deep grey tux.

"Because your best friend is my fiancée's maid of honour and she's apparently dying soon and Lexie wants her to be there."

Jackson swallows a sharp breath, avoids his friend's gaze. "Right?"

"You alright there, Avery? You look a little... strained?" He observes with a joke, watching as the darker skinned man fidgets uncomfortably when the tailor reaches for his pants. "Hey, what happened with her last night?"

The green-eyed masseuse sighs, "With who?"

"Don't play that game with me, Avery, we both know I'm talking about that little firecracker." Mark teases, trying to get a reaction out of him. "You two kind of disappeared after my speech?"

"We-" He stills, slips his hands into the new pockets, tries them out, "I don't wanna talk about it. Especially not with you."

"Well, who do you want to talk about it with?"

"Nobody." He shakes his head, eyes convincing as he finally glances over at his friend across the room.

Mark nods once, eyes him sharply, "Did you guys plan any of her bucket-list-wish thingies today?"

"No."

He doesn't dare say that he's avoiding her. He's meant to be her best friend, her safety blank in these times of need. He's meant to be there for her, with her, helping her.

"Why?"

Sloan shrugs casually, "Lexie wants us to go pick out some flowers and bouquets and stuff later."

"Us, or you?"

"Me, but you're tagging along.""

Jackson holds back an annoyed groan, "You're lucky I'm an Avery. We have good taste." He smirks, changes the situation in his favour.

He won't be played, tricked again.

Choosing between roses and tulips and daisies can't be that hard, can it?

"Oh, and Kepner's coming, too."

Maybe it can.

* * *

"Roses? Wait, no. Orchids?"

"Orchids aren't very wedding-y, Lex." April cuts in, stopping the brunette from picking a selection of wild orchids.

She contemplates them for a second, "Yeah. You're right." She smiles at her friend, shares a look with her fiancé across the shop, "Roses?"

"Always a classic."

"What would you have?" It's an awkward, probably rude, question to ask someone who is meant to dying in nine days but she's Lexie, she's never cruel.

April licks her lips, tugs the bottom one between her teeth for a moment, ignores the green eyes shooting daggers through her skull from the opposite side of the room. "I'd have roses."

If she were getting married, that is. If she was in love with, had someone love her enough to want to spend eternity with her. If she was madly in love, if someone was crazy about her.

It won't happen now, how could it? She has nine days left, nine days to fall in love (she hopes), nine days to fall apart (she assumes).

Nine days will never be long enough to meet someone, fall head over heels and mind over matter. Nine days is never a lifetime.

"Red, right?" Lexie continues, to which April realises she hasn't been listening for a good few moments, her gaze and entire focus instead centred on the man now five feet away from her.

"White." She nods to herself, unable to remove her gaze from her best friend's shadow. Damn him.

"That's a good choice." The voice is foreign to her, to them. The women turn around to spot a man stood behind the counter of the store, finally emerging from the back of the room.

He has deep blonde hair, eyes like marbles. He's tall, maybe a little taller than Jackson. His lips are thin, skin light like porcelain. He's generic, a Malibu Man.

"Hi." Lexie holds out a hand, flashes her large ring smugly, "I'm Lexie, the bride-to-be." She smiles toothily, "We spoke on the phone, right?"

"Yes." He nods, shakes her hand politely before extending his own to April. "I'm Matthew."

The redhead smiles, lets a small blush creep up to her cheeks. He's nothing special, but he's practically a spitting image of her childhood fantasy.

He's almost exactly what she pictured, wanted, when she was alone in her room, surrounding by books instead of loved ones.

"April." She shakes his hand, pushes a strand of hair behind her ear casually.

Lexie watches the exchange, flicks a look over at her fiancé as he approaches the counter, Jackson by his side.

"Mark. The groom." He introduces himself quickly, waves a hand over to the other man, "Jackson. Best man."

"Nice to meet you." The florist greets them, cheesy grin playing on his lips. "So, when's the wedding?"

Lexie begins to converse with him, letting Mark wrap a possessive arm around her waist. She laughs, giggles, leaves April stood awkwardly beside her safety net.

There's a silence between them as they wait for the future spouses to arrange all of their ideas.

Jackson keeps checking his watch, leans against the wall beside the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest, drops his gaze anywhere but on her face.

"I'm sorry." It's low, quiet enough for her to almost miss it.

April turns to face him then, lips dry and hands shaky by her sides, "I figured."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He frowns, green eyes darkening as he notices her expression.

He doesn't understand her. One minute, she wants him to, begs him to, folds into him like a card into a deck. The next, she's pushing him away, using her own, his own, weakness against him.

"That it was a mistake, and it should never happen again."

She's not entirely convinced of her own words, not completely sure she means what she says.

"Right." He stiffs a laugh, shakes his head with blinking eyes, focusing his attention onto the ceiling.

She's damaging him, wounding him. But if she wants to pretend that there's nothing there, that nothing's changing, then he'll play along.

"Mark thinks we should have dinner."

"Why?" The redheaded woman nervously looks up at him, takes a step toward him just as Matthew the florist turns to them with a smile.

"Because we're the wedding party, and apparently we have speeches and stuff to do." He shrugs, almost careless, almost against the idea.

He wants to spend time with her, the most he can get given the circumstances.

But maybe she doesn't want to spend her time with him anymore, maybe she's found a better way of spending her last days.

"Okay." She nods, takes a deep breath with a soft smile, "I'll come over later?"

"Sure."

Just then, the other three come out from the back of the shop, a folder full of papers in Lexie's arms as she walks with a grin.

"Sorted?" April smiles.

"Yep." The brunette gleams, pulls her aside as they leave the store, letting Mark mutter their goodbyes.

She makes sure they're quite far ahead of the guys before spilling the beans, squeezing April's arm excitedly.

Lexie pulls a small post-it note from her stack of documents, shoves it into April's empty hands. "He gave you his number."

"The-" April's eyes widen, lips parting.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is fate. Maybe this is a wish.

"Matthew?"

"Yeah." She squeals, checks over their shoulders and pretends she never sees Jackson staring at the trauma surgeon the same way she knows Mark stares at her. "He's gonna call you later."

"Oh." April gulps, face suddenly brightening up, "Wow!"

* * *

The date doesn't go so bad in the end.

She learns all about him. He's from Michigan, the son of a paramedic and a radio host.

He's thirty-five, never been married. He has no kids, no partner. He's lived in Seattle for the past four years, moved there out of curiosity.

He'd invited her to dinner in the Space Needle, after hearing from Lexie that she wanted to finally go there.

The view was incredible, overlooking the city and her locals.

"How's your beef?" She sips a little of her red wine, smiles over at him from across the table.

He grins, places his fork down. "Delicious."

She hadn't exactly been expecting the date to go this well. She'd been nervous, worried about whether or not this was a smart move.

But he asks her about her interest, her job, her bucket list. He's aware of it, apparently. He compliments her baby blue dress, kisses her cheeks charmingly.

He's sweet, perfect almost, and she regrets ever kissing Jackson. He tainted her, the reminder of his lips behind the only downfall of this evening.

She wonders how Matthew kisses, wonders if he'll even try to kiss her.

Maybe he's just humouring her, giving her a final good date before she dies, maybe Lexie asked him to. Maybe he can't handle seeing a dying person, maybe he's just doing it out of pity.

Or, maybe, this could be it. She could quickly fall in love with him, give him her everything. It could work, if he's on board, that is.

"So, what else is left on that list of yours?" He bats his lashes, holds a glass a certain way that it catches her attention.

April smiles, shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, "Not much."

She takes a deep breath. That's a lie, since there's actually so much she still wants to accomplish. But he might be apart of some of those, and she doesn't want to frighten him with the possibility just yet.

"I want to go to San Francisco. And witness a miracle. And-"

"And you're sure this psychic... woman was right?" He raises a brow out of curiosity, slides a hand across the table to cover her own gently, "You don't seem like you're dying to me."

"I know." She swallows a breath, contemplates whether or not to retract her hand. She doesn't, can't risk the chance that he's the one for her. "She wasn't very forthcoming on the specifics."

"That sucks." He says, traces his thumb over her knuckles, looks down at their hands briefly before flicking his brown eyes back up at her face with a small smile. "This dinner has been lovely, by the way." Matthew tells her and she nods.

The redhead agrees, runs her free hand through her hair, "Yep." She bites her lower lip, waits for him to make a move.

There's a moment's silence before he speaks, before she hears him finally move, "Listen."

He begins with a stall, removes his hand from her own after patting it gently, "You're great, and a lovely person, but-"

"But I'm dying. Or not pretty enough. Or I'm boring." April finishes for him, slouches back in her dinner seat. "Thanks."

"No, no." He frowns, places both hands down in his lap. "That's not it, April." He shakes his brown hair, "I just- Can you do me a favour?"

* * *

She'd completely forgotten that she plans with Jackson that night until she was already heading in his direction.

Her feet lead her to his building, into the elevator until she reaches his floor.

She knocks quietly, hoping that he's not asleep and still waiting for her.

He's understanding, he always has been.

He'd be happy for her, happy that she had a date. He usually is, usually lets her ramble and fawn and gush and spill details he'd actually rather not hear, details she doesn't know she'd bruising him with.

"Coming!" April hears him shout from the other side of the door when she taps again, fist against the wood and feet to the fancy carpeted hallway floor.

The door pulls open after a second, and he lingers with a hand pressed against he doorway.

"Are you going to let me in?" She perks a brow, smiles almost nervously.

"Yeah." Jackson doesn't budge, instead remind where he is and keps his eyes focused on her face.

"What, you got a lady friend in here or something?" The petite woman shoves past him, hand against his bare flesh, reminding him that he should probably slip a shirt on.

He rolls his eyes, moves so she can enter. "Very funny."

She has no clue just how wrong, how off base, she truly is.

April spins around to face him when he shuts the door, a thoughtful look on her face. "I have something for you."

He locks the door, turns around to look at het with hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets. A shirt can wait, he thinks. "Yeah?"

"Uh huh." She nods, holds up a finger as she reaches into her purse.

She steps closer to him when she finds what she's looking for, holding up a folded up napkin between her fingertips. "The florist... gave you his number."

Jackson's eyes widen, throat clearing as he stares down at the crumbled up piece of paper. "Nah."

She giggles once, lowers the napkin, "No?"

"No," he shakes his head as he walks around her towards the kitchen, "I am not accepting that."

"Just call him!"

"No!" He screeches, green eyes squinted and lips tight, "What the hell, April? No!"

She tosses it down on the kitchen counter, slides her purse along the granite surface before beginning to unbutton her coat.

"You ruined my date."

He pulls two bottles from the fridge, tilts one in her direction and she nods in acceptance. He twists the caps off, hands a bottle over to her. "How did I ruin our date? Wait- you went out with him?"

"Yes." She sighs, "And it was going great until he asked me to give you his number and told me that he was gay!"

"It's not my fault he lead you on!"

"It's your fault I couldn't stop thinking about you." She wants to tell him, ignoring the desire to drop her gaze onto his lips.

April takes a heavy breath, sits herself down onto one of his bar stools.

"You're right." She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, shifts her shoulders hen she feels a breeze run down her back. "Hey, what was it Mark wanted us to do?"

"Speeches." He shrugs, "For some reason, he thinks it'll be better if we write them together."

She frowns, "That makes no sense."

"It's Mark, Twelve Days. What do you expect?" He teases her, and she blushes at the recurring nickname.

"Okay, so... What have you got so far?"

"Nothing much." He grabs a notepad from the kitchen counter, waves it about, "I started it but-"

She reaches up to snatch the block of paper from his hand and she drops it onto the island to read, "Mark and Lexie are two of the great people you will ever meet. But they're also selfish. When they're around each other, it's like nothing else matters. He looks at her like she's his other half, the missing link to his chain. She does the sane, except, you know, she's a girl so it's cheesier." April reads it aloud, a small grin on her face. "Jackson!"

"What?" He flinches when she swats his arm with the notepad, a disapproving look on her face.

"I can't decide if that was cute or terrible." She reasons, shaking her head just as her phone rings.

With a little laugh, she pulls her mobile from her purse, doesn't check the caller ID before she answers, "Hey, Lexie."

Jackson wanders around the kitchen as he waits for her to finish her conversation, finding a dark grey sweater in a clean laundry pile and slipping it over his head.

It's only when he turns back around, that he notices what she's wearing.

She has a pale blue dress hanging perfectly down her body, though it's still not as great as the red one from the night before. It bares her shoulders, the sleeves mid-length, a few buttons down the back and it cuts off just below her knees. It's very April.

"We'll be right there. Bye!" She hangs up the phone then, pulling her best friend from his trance.

"What do they want now?" He groans already, dreading what she's going to say.

April smirks, stands from her seat and picks up her jacket. "They're moving up the wedding to... tomorrow night." She blinks, watches as he does the same.

"Tomorrow? Are they crazy?"

"They can't wait, apparently." She tries, "And Lexie wants us to meet them down the church for a rehearsal. Right now." She retrieves his car keys from the bowl beside the front door, tosses them over to him.

"Are you sure you want to spend your supposed last days doing this kind of crap?"

He wants to spend time with her, definitely, but the way she wants, doing what she wants to do. Not this. He still isn't falling for this "dying in nine days" thing but he's going along with it, for her benefit. Which means that he doesn't want to watch her play puppet to Lexie's demands and waste her supposed last days of life away.

"I can fit one more wedding in before I go, Jackson. It won't kill me!" She jokes.

He chuckles, shrugs a jacket over his shoulders as they leave his apartment, "Very funny."

* * *

"You are going to stand here." Lexie's controlling hands are on his biceps, forcing into position behind her groom.

Jackson rolls his eyes when she taps his arm proudly.

"Happy?" He quips, raising a brow down at the brunette teasingly.

She nods once, doesn't catch on to his sarcasm, "Very." She rubs her hands together, turns to face her maid of honour, "April, come stand behind me."

Lexie moves in front of Mark, clasps his hands tightly within her own, stares up at his face longingly. She grits her teeth, watches as April follows her lead. "A little to the left."

"What?" April frowns, folding her arms over her chest.

"To the left!" Lexie screams, face reddening in frustration.

April's hazel eyes widen at her outburst, shares a look with. Her best friend across the way. Jackson holds back a laugh, lowers his head to avoid the bride-to-be's death glare.

"Alright. Good." She takes a deep breath, sways her and Mark's hands back and forth.

"Babe, calm down." He whispers as the minister steps in beside them, flicking through pages of his book.

The old man looks up after a moment, pushes his glasses further up his nose with a gentle smile. "Mark, you're going to begin tomorrow, yes?"

"My speech?"

"Vows!"

"My vows?" He corrects himself with a bruised fist from Lexie, "Yeah." He fakes a smiles, shares a quick knowing look with his best man.

"Where is everybody else?" Jackson asks, peeking his head around to ask the brunette.

She pulls a face, "It's a last-minute rehearsal, Jackson. Everyone is working apart from you two idiots." She explains, almost cutting herself off with a groan when her pager beeps. "Are you kidding me?!"

"Do you have to go in?"

She steps down from the alter, quickly rummaging through her purse to find her pager. "Yeah." With a frown, she turns back around, eyes her future husband pleadingly. "Sorry, Father." She excuses herself, "Can you drive me in, please, Mark?"

"Yeah. Sure." Mark follows her down, leaving the two best friends stood alone at the alter.

"So you dragged us all the way out here for this?"

"I have patients, Jackson!" Lexie shrieks, avoids the temptation to throw her page at his face, "Just- learn your place!"

Mark sends him an apologetic look, wraps an arm around her shoulders as they begin to leave the church.

April licks her lips, shuffles awkwardly on her feet. She hears the minister clear his throat and looks up at him innocently. "Sorry about this."

The green-eyed man groans a few feet away from her, glancing down at his watch.

"Would you like to practice?" The Father asks her, his eyes flicking rapidly between her and Jackson.

"Oh, that-" She smalls softly, looks at Jackson for help.

He shrugs, clearly not against the idea. "Sure. I've got Mark's vows, so..." He whips a small piece of paper out of his jeans' pocket, opens the folded corners. "Come on, April, help the holy Father out."

As an Atheist, he's not entirely on board with the idea of doing this, in a church of all places.

But she's religious, she's faithless. She should love it, right?

"Okay." April gives in, taking a step forward to stand in Lexie's place, watches as Jackson does the same in front of her. "I don't have anything." The corners of her turn up and she shoots the minister a strained look.

He shrugs, "That doesn't matter. Say what you feel." He smiles.

That thought seems to make her uncomfortable because she fidgets, moves her shoulders that way Jackson knows all too well.

"Say what you think Lexie would feel." He corrects the Father, nodding his head to April as if to tell her that it's alright.

She takes a deep breath, clasps her hands together in front of her, messing with the hem of her blue dress.

She keeps her eyes on his sweater, on his arms, on his muscles, anywhere to avoid his face. "You are my everything." She begins, couching softly.

Jackson smirks, enjoying it a little bit more than he probably should, than what's probably allowed in a church.

"I didn't ever think that I would find you, or that I would end up here, but I have. And I have you, and I never want to live any differently. You have made me so happy, and my life has been so much better since you've been around."

The minister holds up a hand to stop her, clearly catching on to her nerves. "Why don't you go first?" He turns to Jackson with a knowing smile.

It's an entirely awkward situation, and she's not why she stayed. Maybe she wants to, maybe she's meant to.

Jackson clears his throat before letting his eyes scan the paper in front of him.

"Lex- My bride," He smirks, "How do I begin to describe these feelings?" He reads, brows knitting as he continues softly, "You are like sunlight creeping through my window at the break of dawn. You are like Christmas morning. You make everyday enjoyable, a new experience."

He glances up at April, notices the way she looks up at him through long lashes. He pauses, takes a second to observe her, takes a moment to forget about the vows already written in his hands.

"You are my life. I would be nothing if I didn't have you, and I never want to know a world like that. I never want to live without you. I never could. I've known you for years, and yet, it only seems like yesterday that we first met."

Jackson smiles, licks dry lips as his green eyes lighten up.

She gulps an unsteady breath, keeps a faint pink colour tint on her cheeks as he continues.

"There's a reason people choose to believe in soulmates. It's not because they're tragic, or amazing, or... I don't believe in soulmates. I believe in life, and love. I believe that if you're truly meant to spend eternity with one person, then you will. I believe that I'm supposed to be eternity with you, and you with me. I believe that you're it."

He takes a breath, lets his hand crinkle the unfolded scrap of paper, can't take his gaze away from her watery hazel eyes.

"I love you, and I know that life is short so you have to make every second count. I believe that you can't just let things happen. You have to go after those moments, the ones that will just pass you by if let them, the ones that matter. I love you, everything about it, and I only want to spend this lifetime with you, no matter how short it is. I will love you until our time together ends, and for all of eternity. I love you. And I hope you love me, too."

April wipes a small tear from her cheek, tilts her head with a light smile, keeps her eyes on is face.

She knows that he didn't read that, memorise that. He spoke it, meant it. She's not sure where it came from.

She steps closer to him after a second's thought, tentatively raises her hands to his chest.

Her hands slide up his body until she links her arms around his neck, body nervous against his own. "That was beautiful."

"You think so?" He grins, almost bashfully, voice low and husky as he lowers his eyes onto her lips, licks his own again. He raises a brow when she nods, the two of them completely ignorant to the church official beside them.

April nods her head once, twice, finally leans up on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. She moans into the kiss, lets him drop his hands to her sides, fingers curling around her waist.

"If I may-" The Father begins, interrupting their moment.

Jackson pulls away from her lips, forehead pressed against hers, viper-like green eyes piercing her sweet gaze intently, "Yeah?"

"Would you like me to continue?" He gestures down at the book in his hands, peeks up at them curiously.

Is he asking if they want to get married? Now?

"No, thank you,"

"No, we're good."

"Alright."


End file.
